


A Day Without Sherlock

by 1yellowfish



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-08 00:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1yellowfish/pseuds/1yellowfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's not dependent on Sherlock, he just has to prove it to his therapist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day Without Sherlock

**Author's Note:**

> A snippet that wanted to come out and play.

John stared at the blank page, the blinking curser mocked him.

It shouldn’t be so hard to write down a day’s worth of information. Even a very full and eventful day had a beginning, middle, and end. So why should it be any harder today than yesterday? Yesterday he’d written up a four hundred word entry to his blog and had even posted a picture. Today, well today he wondered when his life had gotten so complicated.

He chuckled at himself. He knew when his life had gotten so complicated, the first real blog entry he’d posted had been the beginning, when he’d first met and then moved in with Sherlock.

Today though, today was different. It wasn’t the massive amounts of information that Sherlock spouted, or even the brilliance involved that was stopping him. His fingers positively itched to say something about the man’s deductions and the adventure he’d lead John on. Today he’d been given an assignment. No mention of Sherlock, even remotely, he was to prove to his therapist that his living situation was healthy and he hadn’t become dependent on Sherlock.

The fact that he hadn’t didn’t enter into the problem. He was his own person he survived well enough without Sherlock, he didn’t have as much fun, but he managed. The problem was they had had a massive case and it had been beyond brilliant. They’d stopped a bomb, saved an important and unnamable cabinet member, made Anderson cry, and best of all, John had managed to convince Lestrade he had tired of the medical profession and allowed Mycroft to hire him as Sherlock’s personal taxi driver. His face had been brilliant.

So he stared at the blinking cursor and swore.

The clock started to mock him too. Normally he’d have posted by now, even just a one liner of “too tired for this, tell you about the orange sofa tomorrow,” or “honestly it’s my day off, I did nothing. Sherlock didn’t help.” He sighed and drummed his fingers lightly across the keyboard, touching but not typing. There had to be something he could talk about that didn’t involve his flatmate.

_Woke up late, alarm clock missing._ Alright, no need to say that it was missing as an experiment Sherlock was running needed the metal bell’s, he could work that frustration in a later post.

_Luckily it’s Saturday._ Yea it was lucky not because he didn’t work Saturday’s, but because Sherlock always managed at least a small miracle or mini-case on Saturday’s, if he wasn’t working a big case that was. He’d even work a non-interesting case if he thought it would entertain John. It was one of their rituals. Like Sherlock refusing to have anything to do with the milk, even though he drank the majority of it. Buying it, writing it on the shopping list, telling John it was gone, nope. All of those duties were foresworn in his mind.

_Played tourist for a while._ Actually it was played cabbie, but that would be too obvious.

_Decided to go to the Eye._ Just near it really. That’s where Lestrade had been when he’d called Sherlock. There had been a murdered Queen’s Life Guard with a threatening letter pinned to his chest with a letter opener. Anderson had insisted the cryptic letter meant the Queen was in danger, and Lestrade was insistent on the opinion of Sherlock. It had taken three seconds for Sherlock to contradict the pathologist, and less than a minute for Anderson to excuse himself. John almost felt bad for the man as he saw him wipe away a tear, but then he muttered something about the freak and his pet and remembered why he hated the prat. It wasn’t the Queen in danger just some of her officials. 

_Spent some time at Parliament, haven’t been since I was a child._ Technically he was under Parliament, being hurried to several meetings Mycroft’s people shuffled them too.

_The tour was more interesting than I remember._ Mainly because between the petty infighting Sherlock had managed to gleam that there was a much bigger plot afoot than some boring missing paperwork that may or may not condemn the nation to poverty and austerity measures. The arguing had been silenced by Sherlock unmasking a traitor and revealing a bomb was going to go off.

_Went to Westminster, had a blast!_ Or not, actually not. They managed to disarm the bomb. Still the few in the know might chuckle … well they’d get that it was a joke, but ignore it as trivial.

_Ran around more than is decent on a day off._ There was actually a lot of rushing around, he’d been glad for the cab more than once. He hadn’t really run more than he usually did on a case though.

_Forgot to get lunch I was so caught up._ Didn’t forget, was denied. Although he stopped someone dying so it was a small price really.

_Had a large dinner, and should go sleep it off._ He’d gotten take out and Sherlock had barely eaten any, he hated to put anything in the fridge if he could avoid it. He only had two experiment free shelves, they were carefully managed. So he’d eaten most of Sherlock’s portion as well.

He posted the blog entry and stretched. It had been harder than he’d thought to compose.

There was a chime for a new email and he clicked it open. _New Comment_ , well that was fast.

F5 on his post.

_You forgot saved London. – SH_

He rolled his eyes. F5

_That was the whole point. – JW_

F5

_The point was to bore your readers with the worst retelling of any case you’ve ever managed? – SH_

F5

_We’re in the same room. Stop commenting on my blog, I’m deleting these. – JW_

 He threw a look across the room at his flatmate to keep him from responding.

The chime came from his computer. The email: New Comment.

He clicked onto the blog entry and hit F5.

_We’ll talk about this on Thursday then. 4:30?_

 


End file.
